


Times

by jessalae



Series: Advanced Mathematics for the Casual Time Traveler [2]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-06
Updated: 2012-06-06
Packaged: 2017-11-07 02:00:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/425671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessalae/pseuds/jessalae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She doesn't really need to masturbate, with both of her boys around, but she does it anyway because it's fun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Times

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my Dreamwidth December 23, 2010.

In Amy's head, it never happens the same way twice. Every time she imagines it, she tweaks details, trying to find the perfect mental image, the one that makes her tingle pleasantly from the top of her head all the way down to her toes, makes her want to push her knickers aside and touch herself in time with the motion in her mind's eye.

She doesn't really need to masturbate, with both of her boys around, but she does it anyway because it's fun.

Right now the Doctor and Rory are somewhere in the depths of the library, looking for data on a particularly intriguing planetary system. Rory has started insisting on having a modicum of background information before they go anywhere the Doctor hasn’t been before. After some initial melodramatic protesting, the Doctor has thrown himself headlong into the task, and the two of them have taken to spending long hours in the library, combing the stacks for whatever mention there might be of their next destination.

Amy usually leaves them to do their geek thing and retreats to her room. She doesn’t feel strongly one way or another about the necessity of research, and although the TARDIS can translate any alien text she always gets the uncomfortable sensation that the English words don’t really belong on the page. Besides, it’s the only way she can get any time to herself, and the thought of what her boys could get up to when they’re holed up in the library together makes privacy indispensable.

She lays back on her bed and imagines: the rows of dark bookcases, the soft golden light from the lamps, the long wooden reading table piled high with books. The Doctor sits at the table, flipping pages rapidly. He’s been hard at work for a while now, and his jacket is slung over the back of a chair, his cuffs undone and his sleeves rolled up. Rory wanders over, a dusty encyclopedia open in one hand, a mug of tea in the other. He reads as he walks, navigating smoothly around stacks of books, squashy armchairs, and claw-footed desks. He’s almost at the central reading table when he trips over the edge of the ornate rug, spilling lukewarm tea all down his front.

"Oh, damn," he sighs. “I just washed these clothes.”

The Doctor looks up, raising his eyebrows in a calculating way. "They'll dry, just give them a minute," he says.

"Nah, they’ll get all stiff. I might as well change," Rory says. He snaps the encyclopedia shut and strips out of his shirt, heading towards the door.

"Rory," the Doctor says before he’s gone two steps.

Rory turns. "Yes?"

"Amy mentioned earlier she was going to take a nap," the Doctor says, looking at the floor, the ceiling, the lamp, everywhere but Rory’s eyes. "You know how she gets when she's tired, you'd better wait here for a while."

"I suppose," Rory says hesitantly, beginning to pull his shirt back on.

"Wait," the Doctor says quickly. "You’re right, they’ll get all stiff and strange if you’re wearing them. They’ll dry faster if they aren't on you."

Rory pauses, then drapes the shirt across the back of a chair. "Fair point."

"Here, let me help you with those," the Doctor says, leaping up and reaching for the front of Rory's jeans. Rory catches his wrist and looks at him, eyes searching.

"Are you trying to seduce me?" he asks, sounding equal parts surprised and amused.

"No! Well. Maybe. Actually yes," the Doctor says. "Yes, I am. Amy's wonderful and all, but I've been wanting to see what you'd be like... alone."

(Back in her bedroom, Amy admits to herself that her mental dialogue is probably not quite up to the Doctor's usual standard of conversation, and shimmies out of her skirt.)

Rory smiles. "All you had to do was ask," he says, leaning very close to the Doctor. "I've been wondering the same about you."

"Well, that works out nicely, then," the Doctor says, and kisses Rory hard. Rory weaves his hands through the Doctor's hair, pulling him close. The Doctor gyrates, grinding their bodies together, and Rory moans into his mouth. Their lips barely part as they undress.

(Amy runs her hands up the insides of her thighs, thinking of buttons that come undone with the deft flick of a wrist and trousers that slither silently to the floor.)

The Doctor puts his hands on Rory's arse and turns them around, an erotic sort of waltz, until the backs of Rory's thighs brush the edge of the table and he jumps in surprise.

"Doctor..." he begins, breathing hard and leaning back against the table.

"Shush," the Doctor says, and sinks to his knees.

Rory's eyes flutter shut as the Doctor takes his cock in one slender hand and licks from root to tip. After a few more exploratory tastes, the Doctor opens his mouth and swallows Rory down, eyes angled up at his face to gauge his reaction. The Doctor pulls back, leaving Rory's cock slick with saliva, and swirls his tongue around the head, teasing the slit. Rory's hips jerk, and he smoothes a hand over the back of the Doctor's head, encouraging him to go deeper. The Doctor obliges happily, sucking with enthusiasm, his cheeks hollowing with each stroke. Rory's fingers clench and relax on the edge of the table, and he makes little gasping noises that just seem to make the Doctor more enthusiastic.

"Doctor, I--" Rory's voice cracks, and he arches his back, but the Doctor is already standing, his lips swollen and wet, pressing Rory back against the table. Rory half-sobs at the loss of contact, clutching at the Doctor's shoulders.

"That was just the warm-up act," the Doctor breathes, tracing patterns on Rory's chest with wet fingers.

"The w-- oh," Rory says, as the Doctor presses close, his erection rubbing against the inside of Rory's thigh. "You want to...?"

"I do," the Doctor whispers, cupping Rory's arse in both hands. "I really, really do."

Rory looks right at him, pupils blown and mouth hanging slightly open, and says, "Okay."

The Doctor's breath hitches and he kisses Rory, gently at first, then more passionately. Rory leans into the kiss, then hops up onto the table, pulling the Doctor closer in the same motion.

"I've never..." he murmurs into the Doctor's mouth.

"It's all right," the Doctor says. "I'll go slowly," and he spreads Rory's legs and presses fingers that are still spit-slick to Rory's arsehole.

(Amy times her fantasy just right, bringing one soft finger to her clit just as the Doctor's finger slips inside of Rory. In her mind, she and her husband gasp in unison.)

"Shh," the Doctor whispers, kissing the side of Rory's neck. "You have to relax." Rory blows out a long breath and lets his legs fall open and his head fall back, giving the Doctor better access. The Doctor spreads Rory open with one finger, then two, pumping slowly in and out. Rory keeps making quiet noises, first of mild discomfort, then of pleasure, as the Doctor's fingers stretch and tease and find just the right spot to hit. He moans out loud when the Doctor scissors his fingers, twisting them, and spreads his legs wider.

"Doctor," he gasps. "Please."

The Doctor looks slightly dazed at the sight of Rory splayed out on the table in front of him, but pulls himself together enough to rummage through the pile of their clothes and produce a little clear plastic vial. Rory props himself up on his elbows, watching intently as the Doctor smoothes the lubricant over his cock.

"That's... a lot bigger than your fingers," Rory says, smiling nervously.

"I know," the Doctor says matter-of-factly, "But I'll make sure it feels just as good." He steps closer and positions himself between Rory's legs. "Don't forget to breathe."

(Amy's fingers are circling faster over her clit, making her gasp and twitch with every pass. She brings her other hand to her mouth, sucking on two fingers, and then reaches around the back of her leg and teases her entrance, getting ready to push in as--)

The Doctor enters Rory in one smooth, agonizingly slow stroke. Rory gasps and stiffens and bites his lip, but the Doctor leans down and presses soft (and not-so-soft) kisses to his chest, licking and biting at each of his nipples in turn. Rory shudders, his body relaxing by stages, until finally he shifts his hips up, impaling himself further on the Doctor's cock. The Doctor moans and starts to move, grabbing Rory's hips and building to a rhythm that makes the table rock. Rory's hands scramble for purchase, grasping at the edge of the table, at the Doctor's biceps, at his own ankles. He finally wraps one hand around the corner of the table and grabs the Doctor's wrist with the other, and settles back to be well and truly fucked.

The Doctor is nothing if not considerate, angling his hips so he rubs over Rory's prostate more often than not, but it's clear that he's coming apart at the seams fast. He's breathing in gasps and moans, now, little noises in the back of his throat that seem deliberately calculated to be the hottest thing in the universe, and his fingers are probably leaving bruises on Rory's hips. He shifts position, leaning his whole body over Rory so he can bring their mouths together, not quite kissing, just panting against Rory's lips, his tongue occasionally darting out for a taste—

And the bedroom door opens. “Amy!” the Doctor says excitedly. It only takes him a second to notice her sprawled position on the bed and the way she hastily wipes her fingers on the sheets. “Amy,” he says again, shaking his head slightly. “Amy, Amy, Amy.”

“Ever heard of knocking?” she asks, annoyed.

“What were you doing?” the Doctor asks, tilting his head quizzically. “No, don’t answer that, I know what you were _doing_ , but _why_?” He steps into the room, peering closely at her. “Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong,” she says, pushing herself up and reaching for her knickers. “Is something wrong out there?”

“No, not at all, Rory and I just found an account of the Colimine Wars that helped us clear up what century we should be avoiding, so we can head out…” the Doctor trails off. “But it wasn’t anything that couldn’t be interrupted. And you knew that, and yet you were in here, alone. Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Yes, I’m sure I’m all right,” Amy says irritably. “Can’t a girl get some alone time without it being the end of the world?”

“Yes, I’ve had enough end of the world for a while, thank you,” Rory says from the hallway. “What’s happening this time?” He steps into the room and blinks at the sight of Amy, half-dressed and fully disheveled. “Well hello. Having some fun without us, were you?”

“Yup,” Amy says, tugging her skirt on and moving to sit on the edge of the bed. “That’s over with now, though, so why don’t we all head back to the console room for some great save-the-universe fun? Maybe there’ll be some running involved, I love that bit.”

The Doctor ignores her sarcasm completely. “No, I think we should talk about this,” he says, planting his feet and clasping his hands behind his back.

“For God’s sake, Doctor, I was just having a wank!” Amy says. “I didn’t realize masturbation was a crime.”

“It isn’t,” the Doctor says. “I just want to know what you were thinking about.”  
Amy blinks. “Sorry?”

“What you were thinking about while you were masturbating,” the Doctor says. “Your eyes were shut, you must have been seeing something. I’d like to know what it was.”

“What can that possibly have to do with anything?” Amy asks in exasperation. First she gets interrupted in the middle of a perfectly decent wank, and then the Doctor’s giving her the third degree about her fantasies? The situation is getting unbearable.

“It doesn’t, I’d just like to know, that’s all. For my own reference,” the Doctor says, refusing to meet her eyes.

“Can’t say I’m not curious,” Rory puts in, leaning against the door frame. “I mean, it’s not like you’re shy about asking for what you want. What fantasies do you have left to think about?”

Amy rolls her eyes and slumps back on the bed, staring directly up at the smooth golden arch of the ceiling. “It wasn’t anything that crazy. Just you two shagging.”

The Doctor tilts his head. “What?”

“You two,” Amy says, eyes still fixed on the ceiling. “Doing the nasty, having one off, fucking like bunnies. On the table in the library, if you must know.” She points blindly in Rory’s direction. “You were on the bottom, Rory.”

“Really,” the Doctor says slowly.

“Yes. And really, I don’t think it’s so shocking that I’d want to see the two most gorgeous men I know getting it on. Sometimes I just like to watch. You know, in my head. It gets me off just as much as the real thing.”

Nobody says anything for a long while, and eventually Amy starts to worry about the lack of response and sits up. “Don’t tell me I’ve shocked you speechless,” she means to say, but it comes out “Don’t te—oh,” because the Doctor’s unbuttoning his shirt and Rory’s down to his boxers.  
“Didn’t I tell both of you to just ask me the next time you wanted something?” the Doctor says, sounding irritated. “Does nobody listen to me? Ever?”

“You really think I’d be on the bottom?” Rory asks Amy.

“Don’t know, don’t really care,” she says, slightly breathless as she watches them undress. “That’s just the way it happened in this fantasy.” She lets her skirt fall to the floor and slides back onto the bed, leaning against the headboard.

“We can start the way she was thinking and see where things go from there,” the Doctor says, shedding his trousers. “Unless you don’t want to?” He looks at Rory with worried eyes. Rory smiles, shrugs, and steps forward to kiss him, arms wrapping around the Doctor’s waist.

“Suit yourself,” he murmurs against the Doctor’s mouth, maneuvering them back towards the bed.

The Doctor flips them around just as they fall over the end of the bed, sprawling perpendicular to Amy. He works his way sinuously over Rory’s body, kissing under his jaw, licking the hollow of his throat, biting a nipple, traveling downwards until his breath is ghosting over Rory’s cock.

“Oh, yes,” Amy breathes, fingers stroking up the insides of her thighs and dipping under the crotch of her knickers, now thoroughly damp.

The Doctor glances at her quickly just before he takes Rory’s cock in his mouth, judging her reaction when he runs his tongue over the slit and around the head. Rory gasps, his grip tightening on the sheets, and the Doctor bobs his head once, twice, taking Rory deeper with each stroke. The Doctor’s cheeks hollow and his throat works, and Rory whimpers, biting his lip. He opens his eyes wide, screws them shut, and opens them again, lifting his head off the bed to watch the Doctor’s lips wrap around the base of his cock. The Doctor pulls back oh so slowly, his tongue dragging along Rory’s length, and after his mouth slips off with a soft popping noise he licks broad swipes across the head, eyes burning into Rory’s. Rory’s mouth opens and closes soundlessly for a moment before he manages to gasp, “Now, please, now.”

The Doctor springs into action, taking the bottle of lubricant that Amy fumbles out of the bedside table and slicking up two fingers. “This will work better if you relax,” he tells Rory. The statement is almost too clinical to be sexy, but the look on Doctor’s face when he gets a finger inside Rory is one hundred percent pure lust. Amy slips one finger inside herself, curving it up when the Doctor changes his angle and makes Rory moan. The Doctor and Amy both move on to two fingers, then three, and then Rory grabs the Doctor’s wrist and says “Just _fuck_ me already” and Amy sucks in a breath and presses the heel of her hand against her clit.

“You’re really sure?” the Doctor asks, and Rory nods vigorously, grabbing the bottle of lube off the bed and pouring some into his palm.

“Very sure,” he says, stroking the Doctor’s cock until it glistens with moisture. The Doctor kisses him frantically on the mouth, tongue sliding harshly past Rory’s lips as the Doctor spreads Rory’s legs wider and eases inside him.

Amy’s fingers work over her clit in smaller and smaller circles, her pace increasing in time with her boys’. The Doctor is fully absorbed in fucking Rory, now, without so much as a glance at her — and frankly, she wouldn’t have it any other way. His hair spills wildly over his forehead, shadowing the look of intense concentration in his eyes. One hand has a bruising grip on Rory’s waist; the other is fisted in the sheets above Rory’s head. Rory, for his part, is clearly having the time of his life, his legs wrapped snugly around the Doctor’s waist. His hips snap forward to meet each thrust, and his mouth hangs slightly open, lips red from kissing. Amy has never seen him look so sexy. His erection is still wet with the Doctor’s spit, and when the Doctor shifts his angle Rory groans and wraps a hand around it, jerking himself off roughly.

The sight, the actual sight, of her husband being thoroughly fucked right in front of her — not to mention the sound, and the way the bed shakes with each thrust — is more intense than Amy has ever imagined. She strokes over her clit more gently, teasing herself, but her hips arch off the bed of their own volition and she’s gone, crashing over the edge of the most intense orgasm she’s ever had. She lays back, panting, to watch the scene in front of her unfold.

Rory’s still stroking himself, but he’s clearly hanging on by a thread; Amy knows that look on his face and those deep, quiet noises he’s making in the back of his throat. A few more strokes and he’s shouting out his orgasm, pearly white come streaking the Doctor’s stomach. The Doctor moans and ratchets the speed of his thrusts up another notch, pounding through the end of Rory’s orgasm and into his own.

“Oh, Rory,” the Doctor says, planting a breathless kiss on his forehead. “Oh, you beautiful boy.” Rory cups the back of the Doctor’s head and pulls him down for a kiss, deep and slow and luxurious. They lay quietly together for a moment, until Rory turns his head towards Amy and smiles.

“Hello, you,” he says. “Got everything you wanted?”

“Everything and more,” Amy answers.


End file.
